


Restraint

by discolophon



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Dom Castiel, Face-Fucking, Facials, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Threesome - M/M/M, Twincest, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-17 13:46:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9327386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/discolophon/pseuds/discolophon
Summary: Cas strips them and puts Jimmy's back to the wall and Dean on his knees, all from his seat in the armchair in the corner.





	

Cas strips them and puts Jimmy's back to the wall and Dean on his knees, all from his seat in the armchair in the corner. "Suck him, Dean," he says, low and undeniable.

Cas won't undress, and he won't touch himself, not right away. They've done this enough that Dean knows without having to look: Cas's hands are still on the arm rests, motionless except for their ratcheting tension as his grip slowly tightens. He might even only be half-hard still, his dick just barely starting to tent his slacks. He'll get there, though. Watching them, he always does.

Dean fists the base of Jimmy's cock and laps at the head before sinking down, hollowing his cheeks, working his tongue under Jimmy's thick weight. He puts his hands on Jimmy's hips so his thumbs fit into the perfect cuts of Jimmy's pelvis. He blinks up at where Jimmy's staring down at him, eyes dark and avid as he watches his dick slide between Dean's spitslick lips, and Jimmy hitches in his hold, his own hands scrabbling at the wall behind his back.

"Good, Dean." The quiet praise from the armchair buzzes warmly at the base of Dean's spine. His hands flex on Jimmy's sharp hipbones. "Touch him, Jimmy," and Jimmy makes a soft noise as his hands come off the wall and splay on Dean's head, around the curve of Dean's skull and the back of his neck. His fingers clench, pulling Dean down, and Dean drops his jaw for him, takes him in further.

"That's it, like that. Use his mouth." There's breath in Cas's voice, a thready rasp in the roughness. He'll be touching himself now. Dean's eyes flutter closed so he can picture it as Jimmy complies, his shallow pushes turning to long, forceful fucks deep into Dean's mouth: Cas's zipper open, his hand cupped around his cock, rubbing it through his underwear as he watches his brother work to get them both off. To get them all off.

Even as Dean thinks the correction, Cas says, "Touch yourself, Dean," and Dean would be ashamed of the whimper that Jimmy's cock chokes in his throat if he weren't so relieved. He wraps one hand around his own dick, which has been leaking messily all down his shaft since Jimmy started going to town on him, and strokes himself to the rhythm of Jimmy's thrusts. Fuck, this turns him on. Not just being watched while he gets his face fucked--although he won't lie, Cas has yet to find a button that doesn't work for him--but having a place in this fucked-up thing between Jimmy and Cas. Knowing they want him like this, like they want each other. Being a part of them, as much as anyone who's not them can be.

Jimmy's making rough little noises in his throat, holding Dean's head for his own pleasure with one hand while the other pets at Dean's shoulder, preoccupied with the flexion from Dean's arm as he jacks himself. Dean can tell Jimmy's getting closer--hell, he's getting closer--and he just has time to wonder how Cas is doing before Cas's voice spills out, dark and raw and relentless:

"His mouth, Jimmy, look at it. The way you fit, the way he takes you in. He does it so well, doesn't he? Dean, you should see yourself. Getting off on Jimmy's cock in your mouth, on my orders. Do you know how much I like seeing you together? Seeing how much Jimmy loves being inside you, how much he loves that I want him inside you? It's beautiful. You're beautiful together.

"I want--" Cas's breath catches, half-voiced. He's jerking himself now, Dean's sure of it. Settled in his chair in a controlled sprawl while his broad hand, twin to the one Jimmy has buried in Dean's hair, moves over his cock in firm pulls that drag smears of precome down over himself. Blunt, calloused thumb making little circles just under the head, right where Dean uses his tongue when Cas is the one getting his dick sucked. Heavy gaze on the show Dean and Jimmy are giving him, the show he's directing, in total control. The picture's vivid behind Dean's closed eyes, and he feels his own cock twitch in his hand as fresh beads of slick well out onto his own feverish skin.

"I want to touch you both," Cas continues, and Dean can hear how much he wants it in the gravel ache of his voice. Jimmy hears it too; Dean can tell by the change in his hands, Jimmy's restless clutching evening out, just for a moment, into something more like Cas's steady grip. As if Jimmy's hands could be Cas's by something more than proxy. It's not the first time the distinction between Cas and Jimmy has blurred; every time, it spills a hot-liquid shiver under Dean's skin. "But that's not what we're doing right now, is it? Next time. Next time, Dean, I'll lay you out on the bed and put my hands on you. Your arms, your shoulders, your chest, your thighs. I'll give you my mouth until you're hard and dripping, just like you are now, and then I'll kiss your mouth wide open and give you Jimmy's cock, just like you have it now."

"Cas--" Between Cas's inexorable plans and the break in Jimmy's voice, Dean has to squeeze the base of his dick, desperate to keep himself from coming. "--Castiel, please--"

"Jimmy, you'll kneel over Dean on the bed with your hands on the headboard." By the sound of him, Cas's control is fraying at the edges. Jimmy's no better, and Dean opens his throat to take the now-ragged shove of his dick. He chances a needy, shaky-fingered stroke on himself just as Cas continues, merciless, "I'll fuck you while you fuck his mouth, and when we're about to come I'll pull you against me and hold you down on my cock and come inside you while I jerk you off all over him--"

Jimmy tenses up, trembling. Dean's eyes fly open.

Cas bites off a moan. "--fuck, Jimmy, come on him--"

Jimmy's moving before Cas has finished speaking, his hand tightening painfully in Dean's hair to yank his head away, his hips bucking backward. His first spurt of come lands messy on Dean's tongue and chin as his cock slides free; Dean barely gets his eyes closed before the next stripes from the corner of his gasping mouth up over his cheekbone. The next spatters down on the base of his throat, and then Dean can't keep track anymore because the first deep breath he's taken since swallowing Jimmy's dick makes him lightheaded, his pulse throbbing in flashes behind his eyes as he spills and spills over his own fist.

He heaves in breaths, mind blank with euphoria, until a hand on his jaw draws him back. Blinking, he finds Cas kneeling beside him, still fully clothed save for the undone fly of his trousers. Cas's dark eyes track his own thumb as he pushes it between Dean's slack lips and rubs at Dean's tongue; Dean tastes the bitterness of Cas's come mingling with Jimmy's, and takes Cas by the wrist to pull his hand out of the way, leans in to press their open mouths together. As they kiss, lazy but intent, Dean's distantly aware of his hand being lifted from its spunk-wet sprawl on his thigh, the sensation of his fingers being sucked clean. When Cas finally parts from him, Dean drags his eyes open to watch him turn to Jimmy and kiss him too, wide and filthy, licking the taste of Dean's come from his brother's tongue.

By the time they break their kiss, Cas has one hand raked into Jimmy's hair and Jimmy has Cas by the nape. His fingers make small, restive movements where the fold of Cas's collar gives way to skin. "Jesus, Cas," he murmurs, pressing their foreheads together, nosing at Cas's cheek, "the mouth on you when you're in that chair."

Cas tilts in to kiss him again.

Dean's knees creak when the twins help him up off the floor. It's worth it, though, to see how uneven Jimmy is on his own legs as they make their way across the room to the bed. More than worth it when Cas, who knows damn well Dean's not as young as he used to be, lays him out in the centre of the mattress and starts rubbing him down, kneading methodically from Dean's faintly aching thighs to his ankles and back up again. Thinking of the fantasy Cas conjured while he touched himself-- _next time I'll lay you out on the bed and put my hands on you, your arms, your shoulders, your chest, your thighs_ \--Dean's whole body hums.

As Cas works on Dean, Jimmy works on Cas's clothes, winding his arms around him from behind to unbutton Cas's shirt. He mouths slowly down Cas's throat as he does, drags his parted lips across Cas's broad shoulders. Cas's hands tighten briefly on Dean's thighs before he sighs and arches subtly back against Jimmy's chest, his eyes falling half-shut.

They look--fuck, they're gorgeous, sex-flushed and shameless, the two of them so openly turned on by each other. So open to needing each other. Dean wants them. They pull at him like undertow. Sitting up, he presses a soft kiss to Jimmy's sweat-damp temple, skims his fingers over Jimmy's wrists and forearms. Slips his hands inside Cas's shirt and watches new arousal slacken Cas's mouth as he smooths his palms up the lean barrel of Cas's chest, down his back to push under the elastic of his boxers onto the firm curve of Cas's ass. In response, Cas wraps his arms around Dean and digs his fingers into Dean's shoulderblades, hauling him closer.

Dean smiles. "You get so touchy-feely after bossin' us around."

Holy shit, his voice is _wasted_. Jimmy doesn't quite hide a smirk against Cas's neck; Cas appraises Dean, heavy-lidded. "I'm rewarding my restraint," he says, sounding just as rough, and licks a streak of come off Dean's clavicle.


End file.
